grilled up some hot dogs for gigglemom and myself (I'd had a txt from a friend of mine around 6pm saying there was a party etc over in belmar, but at that point, i was still in my pajamas and had already planned on chilling at home. I know, I know... I sound like a dork.)

Yes. pajamas still at 6pm.

I was up pretty late the night before.

actually was yammering on the phone for two hours till about 1:30am and then wound up staying up till 4:30am watching a little Comedy Central - a former client, Hard N' Phirm, was on CC at 2:30am... but then I also got a bee in my bonnet and cracked open the microsoft word and started writing a novel.

Yes. I know. I've mentioned wanting to write one many times on here. Just haven't.

Anyway. The reason I was in my PJs at 6pm last night (same ones on me as I type right now) was because I wound up going to bed at 4:30am, woke up at 9am, got my period, pounded some midol for the cramps, fed Beri, fed gigglemom and then at 12pm, after doing some work for my clients, my couch had my name on it till about 4pm.

Slacker, aren't I?

Eff it, it was a holiday...

I'll probably scrape the pajamas off of me and get out of the house for a little while.

Oh? you want to hear about the book? Well. It's got 7 pages of blathering written so far. We'll see how it goes.

Just had a glint of inspiration the other day.

I was driving around the other day (because it was beautiful and my car has great gas mileage) and so I drove from Bay Head up to Avon and then back, but, on the way back, I stopped at St. Catherine's cemetery and visited my Nana and Poppy (on gigglemom's side) and had a chat with 'em. Yes. I know that sounds completely insane, but, whatever.

Was yapping to them and mentioned something about writing a novel (or children's book. But what I am writing at the moment is more chick-lit, not children's lit.) and this whole feeling f calm washed over me.

Yeah. I know. Crazy.

I was yapping some more to them and other stuff that was kinda coincidental happened as well, but, I'm not going to write about that at the moment.

Of course, while I was talking (yes. out loud.) and gesturing with my hands (because I didn't look like enough of an insane person whilst wearing my straw hat from the market in the Bahamas --- hell, I paid $20 to a retarded Bahamian for that hat and even though NO ONE wears anything like that around here, I wanted to get my $$$'s worth. I was also wearing a bright coral bathing suit cover up. As I said. I looked like someone a little "off". Wearing a giant straw hat, bright dress, sunglasses, gesturing to a headstone and talking kinda loud to it...)

So there I was and I didn't hear the Mustang pull up behind my car... nor did I hear the 20-something year old guy padding his way over to the grave behind me. (I'm assuming a parent. The kid was young. Although, hey, he might've been going to visit a g-parent like me)

I was in the middle of asking a question (yes. I ask them questions... no one ever hears their responses which makes me look absolutely ridiculous) and as I was gesturing, my head turned and I saw this kid staring at me.

Luckily, I looked like one of those incognito widows with the hat and sunglasses, well, if they were loud and dressed in an outfit that was brighter than any of the flowers in the graveyard.

I said "Uh...." *gulped* and then turned to Nana and Poppy's headstone, made the sign of the cross and said "I've gotta get outta here. Talk to you later"

and then I hightailed it to my car...

I looked at the Mustang and there was some girl (guessing girlfriend) in there giving me a weird look.

Whatever.

Then I felt bad for only visiting Nana and Poppy, so I made a stop at Greenwood Cemetery in Brielle and visited my Grandpop, Grandmother and Step-Grandmother. Had a chat with them.

It always starts well when I visit there. Then the conversation just turns bitter. Not at my Grandmother (since she died when my dad was 10), but at my Grandfather and Step-Grandmother.

See... the giggledad side of the family had some cash.

like.

a lot.

the family owned Spring Meadow Golf Course and also Bennett Sand & Gravel in Manasquan.

Lucrative. Also, my Grandpop had a lot of other land that he had profited from over the years.

Grandpop died in 1982. Leaving most of the shares of the Gravel Pit to my uncle (who is a half brother to my father... Uncle Paul is the eldest of the family. My dad is the youngest.)

My dad got a little, but, basically got screwed in that will.

The State of NJ wanted to build a reservoir on the spot where the Golf Course was. So they basically pressured my grandmother (actually my step-grandmother, but, I didn't know that until I was 23 at her funeral) into selling. Lo and behold, the golf course is still there but the reservoir is no where near that spot. I've played the course, but, I'm a tad bitter about it.

ANYWAY.... they sold the gravel pit in 87 i think it was.

My grandmother died in 1993 and instead of splitting up the estate between my father, my 2 aunts and my uncle (who'd already reaped the rewards from my Grandfather's death and was a multi-millionaire) she gave some scraps to them and then decided to give her nephews --- NO RELATION WHATSOEVER -- the estate.

I'm bitter. I'm letting it out on here. But, I'm giving you a little background on why my conversation with my dead grandparents turns south when I am there at the gravesite.

So... she gives the twins (Tommy and David. Two pissant arrogant S.O.B.s) the estate.

 The house on the river in Brielle
 The house in Jupiter FL
 The stock portfolio - in 1993 was worth $12 million.

There were many other items as well, but, those were the biggies.

Usually when I go to visit them, I start off with the "how are yous" and then it winds up turning into the "seriously, did you have to do THAT?" kind of growling and then I wind up sitting on the Bennett bench and calming down and saying "well, i guess on the brighter side of things, if i was loaded to the gills, I'd probably not have tried to make anything of myself, so, thanks." and then I get all misty eyed (thinking of how I used to have 7 horses and a 4 bedroom house and a pool and now live in a frigging condo in Brick)

Let's just say, I am happy that I had all that as a kid, but, it really sucks when you are used to having all that and then situations change drastically. I would've rather been poor (well, not poor, but poor-ish) when I was growing up and had the cash now.

I'm making it seem like I am a step away from standing on the street corner begging for change. I'm not. I am comfortable, but, I mean, seriously... TWELVE MILLION?!

anyway... yeah. bitter.

The novel's not about any of that though. (I should write something about that because it'd probably be therapeutic... especially if I sold 500,000 copies and made some cash off my bitterness. Ah, it's a thought.)

where was i?

oh. right.

in my pajamas.

going to take a shower and scrub the envy and bitterness off me for a few hours.